Dandelions
by Illo2113
Summary: Morgan searches for the right flowers to give his mother on her birthday, enlisting the help of both his sister and his father. Short 1-shot for chrobin week.


Morgan shuffled towards his sister's room, the cloak he had "borrowed" from his mother dragging across the floor. The sleeves, longer than the arms that wore them, hung limply at his sides. Lucina had left the door open, and Morgan was able to slip in easily without disturbing her. At the moment, She was trying to solve a set of mathematical equations that their mother had assigned, and each variable reminded her why she ever so slightly preferred the company of her father.

"Luci!" Morgan nearly shouted, making it clear the lack of disturbance was fully unintentional.

"What do you want, Morgan?" Lucina huffed, not looking up from her work. "I'm busy."

"I wanted to ask you a question about Mother!"

"I would be happy to help, but perhaps you could wait a few-"

"What's her favorite flower?"

Lucina turned in her seat. She had planned to be a little bit annoyed at her brother for interrupting her studies, but upon seeing him wrapped in their mother's clothes like a swaddled baby, she found it difficult.

"Favorite flower..." She pursed her lips, thinking. She could've sworn that Aunt Sumia told her a story about that once, but the details escaped her. "I'm sorry, Morgan, but I can't remember."

"Oh, that's okay."

"But… perhaps Father would know? I'm certain he would be able to help."

Morgan considered this for a moment. He had never seen Mother receive any flowers from their father, but it made sense. After all, Father knew everything.

"I'll go find him, then. Thanks, Luci!"

Lucina smiled at her brother as he left the room. That smile disappeared, however, when he peeked his head back in to tell her matter-of-factly that her math was wrong.

...

"Milord, are you certain that's wise?"

"No, but Emm never refused diplomacy, and I don't intend to change that."

"Even if it's clearly a Plegian trap?"

"Especially then. Though, if you don't mind…"

"I'll tell Anna to put in an order for a shipment of weapons."

"Thank you, Frederick. And please, give Sumia my regards."

"Of course, Milord."

Frederick brushed past Morgan as he left the war room, and stopped to bow to the prince. However, Morgan seemed to be in such a hurry that he didn't even notice. He reminded Frederick very much of his mother in that moment, and wondered what that hurry was for.

Much like Lucina, Chrom was too preoccupied to notice Morgan's footsteps as he entered. Morgan wondered if Mother had assigned mathematics equations to his father as well, but the thought left his head as quickly as it entered.

"Father?"

"Oh, Morgan," Chrom knelt down next to his son, trying to forget about his conversation with Frederick for the moment. "What brings you here?"

"Do you know what mother's favorite flower is?"

"Ah. Looking for a birthday gift, are we?"

Morgan nodded excitedly.

"I'd be happy to tell you. I could tell you a story with it too, if you want."

The nod continued, and Chrom paused for a few seconds.

"It was quite a few years ago, before you or Lucina were around. I don't even think we were married yet, actually. I was doing pretty much the same thing you are now - searching for a birthday gift to give to your mother."

"You were looking for flowers too?"

"Just like you. And, just like you, I wasn't sure which ones to give her, so I asked Sumia. She and your mother shared tents back then, you see, so I thought she might be able to help."

* * *

"We mostly talk about books… I'm just not sure if flowers have ever come up before."

"Surely you must have heard _something?"_

Only a little more than a stone's throw away from camp, Chrom and Sumia strolled side-by-side through the grass. The summer weather seemed lifted directly out of a storybook, though the threat of a surprise attack by hostile forces was, perhaps, a little bit higher than the storybooks might lead one to believe.

"You know, you _could_ just ask her yourself. I think she'd be happy to know you care, and the big issue in all those romance novels is always a lack of communication."

"Wh-romance?" Chrom's face reddened.

"You're not exactly discreet," Sumia giggled. "The flowers were a bit of a giveaway. Plus, it doesn't help too much that Lissa saw you two kissing in the medical tent."

"...There's no chance you're the only one she told about that, is there?"

"Probably not. Anyways, I think that I might have an idea on how to solve your problem."

"Yeah?"

"If you're so worried she won't like the flowers you get her, why not get her a whole bunch of different kinds? That way you'll definitely pick something she likes."

"That… is a really good idea."

"Thanks. Now, if you don't mind, we should probably get back before I trip on something and break my face. Let me know how it goes!"

* * *

"So, Mother liked one of the flowers you got?"

Chrom grinned sheepishly.

"Well, not exactly. Funnily enough, I was the one that ended up tripping on something before I got back to camp, and they were basically all ruined when I gathered them back up."

"I'm confused."

"I didn't really answer your question at all, did I? I guess the point in the story I was trying to get to was that, even though the flowers I gave her weren't the _best_, she said that it was the fact that they came from someone she loved that made them her favorite."

"Oh, okay."

Chrom ruffled his son's hair, eliciting a short burst of laughter.

"Why don't we go pick some together? You can make sure I don't drop them this time."

"Okay!"

...

Morgan felt the memories of that day rushing to his head as he placed a bundle of dessicated dandelions on the grass. It was grass at one point, at least, though now there was little more than dust. The cloak he had inherited from his mother spread across the ground as he took a seat in front of two of the last remaining graves in the royal burial grounds. All the larger graves had already been raided, including that of the First Exalt, but his parents' had been pretty much left alone. Morgan supposed he had Aunt Lissa to thank for that, who had insisted that her brother wouldn't have wanted an ornate tomb when the resources needed could be put to better use in the war effort.

"I hope these will do, they're all I could find. Not many flower shops around anymore."

"Lucina wanted to come today, but you know how busy she gets. She says that she's got some kind of new plan to beat Grima, and needed to make sure everything was all set. I haven't been filled in on all the details yet, but she seems determined. Even more so than usual, I mean."

"Honestly, I'm glad she's the one with the plan this time," Morgan's voice quivered. "I've been trying my best, but I'm still nowhere near the tactician you were. The other day, I walked us right into an ambush, and we barely escaped. I just keep letting everyone down. Letting _you _down. Lucina tells me that I can't blame myself, but it's my fault for not spending more time preparing. If I had, maybe we could-"

"Morgan!" Lucina called, her voice cutting through still air. "It's time!"

"I'll be right there!" he shouted back.

Morgan wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his cloak, soaking up the tears that had begun to well in his eyes.

"I guess that's it, then. Maybe if this plan works, whatever it is, I can get you some real flowers next year. And, hey, if it doesn't, at least I'll be able to see you and Father again."

Morgan looked upon his parents' grave one last time as he got to his feet.

"Happy Birthday, Mother."


End file.
